A Long Time Ago We Used To Be Friends
by Tracy Space Cowgirl
Summary: There’s nothing as sad as a friendship that becomes broken. Focuses on a Chloe and Lana friendship with Chlark and LanaPete.


A Long Time Ago (We Used to be Friends)  
by Tracy

Rating: PG-13ish  
Fandom: Smallville  
Written for: **joannec** on LJ for the 2005 SV/SGA Flashficathon.

Summary: There's nothing as sad as a friendship that becomes broken. Focuses on a Chloe and Lana friendship with Chlark and Lana/Pete.

Disclaimer: Not mine, and it never will be. How sad.

Spoilers: early S5,Vague for "Thirst" (Probably not more than you get from the trailers, speculation for later S5.

* * *

It is the little things that hurt the most. The things that tend to blend into the background, the facts and memories of her person that I try to push back to some distant and dark corner in the recesses of my mind- those are the things that haunt me the most from a friendship long dead.

When a friendship dies, it is hell, pure and simple. When you lose the Fs from "BFF", all that's left is a bunch of bullshit.

Once upon a time, I called Lana Lang my best friend.

Today, I call her a stranger.

I'll never know quite how I got to be friends with Lana in the first place. We didn't have much in common. She was the Princess of Smallville High School, a dark haired beauty that every single guy seemed to lust over? Me? I was the weirdo who preferred the smell of newsprint to pom-poms, the girl who would take a good trip to a thrift store over reading Cosmopolitan any day. She was popular; my best friend got picked to be the scarecrow freshman year. Not exactly the best recipe for bosom buddies, right?

Maybe it was the meteor rocks. Hell, they were responsible for most of the eerie ass things that happened in Smallville. It's the best explanation I got.

But Lana did become my best friend. In spite of all our differences, I finally found someone in Smallvile who could appreciate the physical wonders of Keanu Reeves and Ewan McGregor right along with me. (The horrors of trying to get Clark and Pete to watch Moulin Rouge is another story all of itself- suffice it to say, it didn't work). Finally, I could go shopping with someone without having them run off to the safety of the food court after only five minutes.

When she was in trouble, I came to her rescue. I convinced Dad to let Lana move in with us instead of moving to Metropolis with Nell. And yeah, we had our rough patches (mostly caused by our mutual admiration and obsession with all things Clark Kent), but overall it was really great.

We became more than friends, we were sisters in everything but blood. It made me understand the complicated relationship between my cousins Lois and Lucy a hell of a lot better. Like sisters, we had our little squabbles. But we always knew that we'd patch it up or get over it, because we treasured our friendship.

I could tell Lana things that I couldn't tell anyone else. I told her secrets that I didn't share with anyone else; things that Clark and Pete just wouldn't understand.Lana was often the center of attention. There was something about her, a certain air, a certain aura that attracted people. And sometimes, when I was near her, I felt special too just because I was Lana's friend. She could have that effect on you. That's probably what drew Clark to her like a moth to a flame.

She was my roommate in college. At the last possible moment, Lana decided that she simply had to escape Smallville to go to Metropolis University. After my experience with the roommate from hell and her run in with a sorority of blood sucking vampires, we ended up being roommates again, just like Buffy and Willow in season four of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Things were good for a while. It was like High School, version 2.0. We did wild things, like moon the boys in the dorm across the hall, and silly things, like go to Wal-Mart at four o'clock in the morning, wearing our pyjamas. We had inside jokes that could send us into hysterics in seconds flat, secrets that we kept guarded close, like the time Lana put a baked potato (wrapped in foil) into our microwave and caused both the fire alarm and the sprinklers to go off and flood the dorm.

It's hard to tell exactly what caused the end of our friendship.

It wasn't, surprisingly, caused by Lana and Clark giving into their carnal urges and sleeping with each other. The brief, physical stage of their relationship started during the summer after Senior Year. I tried not to think about it too much. It hurt too much when I did. I've always had a thing for Clark, and frankly, the image of the guy who my world revolved around and my best friend doing the deed was disgusting. I cried into my pillow about it and tried to rise above it.

I still knew Clark better than she did. I knew his secret. And in a way, though his heart and soul belonged to Lana, there was a small part of Clark that was mine and mine alone.

Lana and Clark broke up during freshman year. I was there when Lana cried herself to sleep; I held her hair as she threw up after ingesting too much beer at a keg party in an attempt to get over it.

Sometimes, I think that if I'd told Lana the truth and divulged Clark's secret that we might still be friends. Maybe that would have stopped things from changing. Or maybe it would have made things even more awkward and horrible.

Lana found a new group of friends after her break up with Clark. These friends moved too fast for me. They were wild, staying out till all hours of the night, doing goodness only knows what. Her attitude changed, too, from the friendly and quiet girl I'd known for years; to a wild child who stopped going to classes. When we had plans to do best friend type stuff together, she'd be too damn busy with her new posse, or she'd invite one of them along.

It got to the point where I hardly knew her.

One night she came back to the room about five in the morning, and turned on all the lights and turned on her radio full blast. I had a very important test in three hours- one that compromised most of my grade in Western Civ., and I was, to put it lightly, upset. We yelled, and we screamed. We both said things that we shouldn't have; or at least, I know I did. I could accept Lana sleeping with Clark. I couldn't accept her changing into someone that I didn't even recognize, someone I didn't even know.

Lana moved out while I was taking my test.

I came back to a half empty room. Piled on my desk were gifts that I'd given her. I called Clark sobbing, and he was there for me in five seconds flat.

There's nothing more painful than a friendship that goes bad.

Clark knows that all too well.

At the same time that my friendship with Lana was imploding, the final death knell for Clark and Lex's relationship was sounding. I don't know exactly what went wrong. I've never asked Clark. He's never asked me about Lana. Some things are best left unsaid, I guess.

So when Perry assigns Clark and I an article about Lex, I handle the story. Clark gave my apologies at the surprise birthday party that Lana threw Pete. We work things out.

The little things hurt the most.

I miss how close we used to be. It's been ages since I've heard her voice on the phone. I don't get Christmas Cards from Lana anymore, filled with her little cartoons of birds and turtles. If I smell her perfume- a mixture of orchids and roses, it makes me tear up.

I miss being able to pop into the Talon when I'm back in Smallville. The coffee at the Beanery just isn't as good.

I found out that Lana and Pete were engaged from a newspaper article. When I got engaged, I sent her an email. She never wrote back, but at least I made an effort.

It hurts that Lois was the one who threw me my bachorlette party. Lana should have been the one ordering strippers and compiling a list of just which sex toy came from whom. She would have had a whole database set up on her computer too, not the scribbled and misspelled list my cousin managed.

Today, I'm getting married. I'm marrying the man of my dreams. I should be extraordinarily happy, out of this world giddy. And on one level, I am.

I don't even know if Lana will come to my wedding. We invited her and Pete, and Clark's hopeful that they'll show.

If she comes, my best friend won't be at my side in a frilly bridesmaid dress. She'll be sitting in the audience, on the side where all of Clark's friends and relatives will sit.

Lana used to be my best friend.

Today, she's just a stranger.


End file.
